Chapter Text
Azumanga Daioh vs. Covid-19?!
Chapter 1: Tomo & Yomi
September 2019
“Strike!! That’s three strikes! You’re out!”
Tomo Takino sank deeper into her recliner, taking another sip from the cheap 2-litre bottle of sake sloppily placed onto her coffee table. Though really, it wasn’t hers. Judging by her own mess in an otherwise clean house, it seemed she was crashing at her friend Yomi’s place… again. On the TV across from her played an old tape. Was it 12 years already? Victoriously celebrating on the displayed baseball pitch was her old friend (and rival?) Kagura Kanda. How many times had she rewatched these old games?
‘That should have been me…” Tomo would mutter to herself. Taking another gulp of the bitter beverage, the 36-year old woman furiously slammed the bottle back on the table, failing to make any more of an oomph than was possible with just a nearly-empty bottle and a wooden table. Sufficient to say, it wasn’t enough to let out all her pent up anger.
Kagura was the one lucky enough to get into university on a sports scholarship. Kagura was the one lucky enough to become a star swimmer-turned-star pitcher. Kagura was the one lucky enough to get drafted onto the Lions. Kagura was the one lucky enough to make the Japanese women’s national baseball team. Kagura was the one lucky enough to take the team to world-champion level. Kagura was the one to retire early in a mansion on the edge of Tokyo.
Yet poor, poor Tomo couldn't seem to even be lucky enough to make it out of the Academy. Sure, being a local radio host with a cult following pays the bills, but with spending habits as irresponsible as hers, keeping a place of residence can be challenging.
“Still watching that game again, huh?” Tomo sat up, startled after hearing words from the door. It was her best friend since elementary school, standing tall, yet disappointed at Tomo's lack of motivation.
“Yomi, how many times have I told you to leave me alone today, you moron?”
“I’m trying to film a vlog, Tomo. I’ve told you that already. This constant slamming of your… whatever’s in that bottle of yours… onto my vintage coffee table certainly doesn't make that process any easier.”
“You bought that damn coffee table for 3000 yen at the flea market. You value those silly ankle weights you wear all the time more than this dinky thing!” Yomi sighed, looking down at her feet. Two rough-looking sacks of beads, haphazardly wrapped around her ankles, hung sadly on the floor.
“People my age value my fitness vlogs and tips, Tomo. They help people live a healthy lifestyle. I can’t just go around not practising what I preach.”
“You have two thousand followers, give it a rest! I get more listeners each morning on my radio show!”
“Barely…”
“What did you say??” Tomo snapped back. All Yomi could do was sigh, take out a cloth from around her waist, and clean her fogged-up glasses. How did she put up with this woman? Did she provide sentimental value? The two had been friends as long as she could remember, after all.
“Friends”. That would be a loose application of the word. Tomo would always tease her. From her weight to her grades, it seemed there was always something that could be picked apart for her entertainment. Yomi always told herself it was in good faith, and she would take it with stride. However, she had eventually had enough. After a rough entrance exam, Yomi had finally gotten into college. She chose to become a dietitian, and that she would live a happy, mostly Tomo-free life.
After a couple years working professionally, Yomi got her first call. “Hey, it’s me! Tomo! Remember? Your best friend? Looky here, Yomi. I’ve been tracking you down for AGES. I had to call Chiyo all the way in AMERICA to get your address. Listen, I’m in a bit of a hard place right now. Literally. Can I come and crash at your house for a while?”
“Uh, sure..?”
“GREAT!!! I’LL SEE YOU IN 5 MINUTES!”
“Huh? T-tomo, can I at least have some time to–” *Beep, beep, beep beep…*
This brought her back to the moment. THAT’s how she got here. All she could do was let out a sigh as she looked up at her friend with exhausted eyes.
“Alright, you win. Just make less noise, OK? I have work I gotta do. And turn down the TV.”
“Fine.”
As Yomi turned to leave Tomo be, she heard a ringing in the next room over.. It seemed the house phone was getting a call.
”I’ll get it.” She turned the corner, finding the source of the ringing laying on a nightside stand. “Hello? … Who is this? … Oh my gosh! I haven't heard from you in ages! How’s it been? … A reunion? … You have it all worked out? … That sounds wonderful! … Oh, Tomo’s here too. … Does she have to come? … Fine. I’ll speak with her. … Yes, I wish I could talk more too! … Oh well, we’ll save that for when I see you again, face to face. … Alright, bye Chiyo!”
“I heard my name, you know.” Yomi turned around, seeing Tomo standing in the doorway. “What’s this about a reunion?
